Obsessed
by Tearrer
Summary: Rachel has been receiving text messages from what she thought was a bully for the past few weeks. When she discovers that the person sending them wasn't a bully after all, but someone much more sinister, she learns that things are not always black and white.
1. Part 1

**A/N: **Eep, my first posted _Glee_ fanfiction! I seriously thought of and typed up this story in just three days and I am very close to being finished. Since I'm posting it so quickly out of excitement I've only read it over twice, so let me know if there are any mistakes please! The story is only going to have about five (long) chapters.

**Summary:** Rachel has been receiving crude text messages from what she thought was a bully for the past few weeks. When she learns that the person sending them wasn't a bully after all, but someone much more sinister, will it be too late to get away safely?

**Ships:** Despite my love for Puckleberry goodness, I'm trying to keep this story as cannon as possible (since the concept is pretty far-fetched as it is), so the romance that it does include is Finchel. The story, however, is going to be Rachel-centric, so don't count on too many Finchel scenes.

**Warnings: **Mentions of non-con, but nothing too serious or detailed. The M rating is almost pushing it, since it's not that bad, but better safe than sorry.

**Credit: **The inspiration (and some of the concepts) for this story originates from the movie _He Loves Me, He Loves Me Not_ (2002), a great film that I would recommend to anyone! If you can deal with the subtitles go watch it! And I don't own _Glee_ or the characters (duh).

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><p><strong>Obsessed<br>Part 1 **

Rachel shook her head in annoyance as her phone buzzed for the third time in the past forty minutes. The bullies of McKinley High had hit an all time low and were now resorting to harassing her via text messages. Blocked-numbered texts containing vulgar, usually sexual, messages had been a daily occurrence for the past couple of weeks.

"Get another one? I heard your phone go off in class and we both know Finn isn't stealthy enough to text in his class."

"Yes, three! But I haven't bothered to look at them yet. Together?" She held up her phone and rolled her eyes. Flipping it open they were rewarded with some of the more vulgar of the slew.

_You look beautiful today in that pink sweater. _

("I'm surprised they bothered to remember the color of your sweater…" "That is odd, isn't it? Plus, this isn't much an insult. I suppose they're running out of mean things to come up?")

_I love when you wear short skirts for me, and I know exactly what you mean by the one you're wearing today._

("What is that even supposed to mean? 'I know exactly what you mean'? Is there something wrong with my skirt?" "No, it's fine, Rachel, he's just an idiot.")

_I can't wait to be ins-_

"Whoa! That's enough for me!" Rachel said abruptly and clicked the delete button, a light pink tint on her cheeks.

"Maybe we should report this. It is getting out of hand." The look of disgust on Kurt's face didn't fall even as they walked towards their lockers together.

"No, no. Once they get sick of it they'll stop. It's only a matter of time," Rachel sighed. She pulled open her locker and switched out her books routinely, carefully placing her history book back into its place on what she had designated the 'no homework shelf'. (She had two shelves, one for the books she would take home, and the other for the books that would stay overnight. One could never been _too_ organized!)

"Well I think you should tell someone. There could be a way to figure out who is sending them," Kurt suggested.

"Who's sending what?" Finn questioned as he walked up to Rachel. She smiled at him and they shared a chaste kiss and a smile.

"We're discussing what to do about the perv sending text messages to Rachel," Kurt said with disdain.

"You got more?" Finn asked, his brow furrowing. "Ya know, I mentioned it in the locker room and kind of warned anyone who may be doing it to stop."

"And I thank you for that, Finn, but I don't believe this person is going to stop just because you asked them to. I think we should just give it time and ignore it." Rachel gave Kurt a pointed look. He had promised not to mention it in front of Finn anymore because of how upset he would get whenever it was brought up. Kurt rolled his eyes at the mock-glare.

"It is getting out of hand. If you don't tell someone then _I_ will." Rachel sighed at the unnecessary threat.

"If it keeps up for another week then I'll tell someone. Okay?" Kurt seemed to contemplate this and finally nodded after a few moments.

"Fine. I'll see you in Glee," he said dismissively and walked away towards his final class of the day.

"I agree with Kurt," Finn declared, looking sour. "I don't like someone saying that kind of stuff to you. It's creepy."

"I appreciate your concern but you're overreacting. Don't worry about it. Let's just drop it, please? If anything, this harassment is going to teach me how to deal with any overenthusiastic fans once I'm on Broadway. It is mental preparation!"

"I'm sure you won't have to deal with that," Finn said nicely, and then quickly added, "Not that you shouldn't! Anyone would be crazy not to be your obsessed fan!"

Rachel laughed and took Finn's hand in hers, loving the feeling. He sent her one of his trademark grins and squeezed her hand reassuringly.

XxXxX

It had been a long week. Sectionals was just two weeks away and Rachel had been busy helping her fellow Glee-clubbers pick out the perfect songs to win them a first place trip to Nationals. That, plus her dance lessons, private voice lessons, Finn, and last but not least homework, had all added up to an exhausting week.

"I'm absolutely ready to relax and have a girl's night."

"How about coming over at five? We can relax with some manicures, pedicures, facials, and movies?"

"Sounds amazing," Rachel said into the receiver as she drove down County Road, one of the many popular exit roads from McKinley.

"I'm thinking _Breakfast At Tiffany's_, with a comedy as a follow-up…?" Kurt suggested.

"Sounds perfect, I honestly just want to have a fun night and turn off the stress."

"I'm sure Finn could help you with that tomorrow night…"

"_Kurt_! I am going to pretend you didn't just say that," Rachel laughed, and Kurt followed suit.

"Well, I think it's about time the two of you tried something new."

"And you wonder why I don't go into detail about me and Finn…"

"That among other things, I'm sure," Kurt said easily. Rachel knew he was referring to the long-since past _thing_ he had for Finn.

"You don't see me asking about the dirty details between you and Blain."

"The difference between us is that if you _did_ ask I would tell," Kurt said smartly.

"Fine, then we'll have a full discussion tonight abou-_ahh_!" Rachel let out an instinctual yelp when the large truck that was following behind her car got too close and managed to tap the bumper, causing her Sedan to lurch forward unexpectedly.

"Rachel? Rachel!" Kurt's voice from the phone that had fallen into Rachel's lap was faint.

"One second!" Rachel said loudly, gripping the wheel tightly. She slowed down and pulled to the side of the road shakily before picking up her cell phone.

"Ugh, someone just rear-ended me on County. How could that have even happened? I was going the speed limit, there wasn't even a stop!" Rachel stammered into the phone, feeling the adrenalin from the shock of the collision pumping through her veins.

"Are you alright?" Kurt said quickly, sounding worried.

"Yes, I'm perfectly alright, if not a bit shaken up. The truck barely hit me; I don't even know how it happened. He must not have been paying attention… I've got to hang up and deal with this. I'll call you before I head over to your house later, sound good?"

"Okay, good. Are you sure you're not hurt?" Kurt asked seriously, sounding reluctant to hang up the phone.

"Yes, I'm fine. I'm going to check my car and call the police if necessary. Like I said, I'll talk to you later. Bye, Kurt!" Rachel said quickly as she heard the driver of the truck shut the door to his own car.

She shoved her phone into her purse and hooked it around her arm as she took the keys out of the ignition and stepped out of her car. She saw the other driver inspecting the back end of her car, noticing that he must have also been on his way home from school since he looked about Rachel's age, if not a little younger.

"What on Earth happened?" Rachel said briskly, and walked forward to stand beside the boy and inspect the damage. There didn't seem to be any dents, just a smudge of his red paint on her white car.

His head shot up at her voice and his eyes widened.

"Rachel! Are you all right? Were you hurt?" The boy stepped forward and grasped Rachel's upper arms in worry, inspecting her face for damage.

"I-I'm fine, thank you," Rachel said, surprised at his protective demeanor. "Do I know you, I'm sorry…?"

Rachel watched carefully as the boy's face fell, his eyes narrowing. His voice, however, sounded _hurt_. "Rachel, of course you know me." His grip on her arms tightened ever so slightly and Rachel's gazed flickered to where his hand gripped her arm.

"Er… right, yes, I'm mistaken. I just don't remember your name at the moment," Rachel tried again to figure out who this person was and was met with angrier eyes than before.

"It's _me_," (_Oh, very helpful_, Rachel thought to herself), "it's Aaron." He gave her a little shake, tightening his grip again, and Rachel began to blink, as if she were remembering something she had forgotten.

"Oh! Aaron, I'm so sorry. I hit my head on the steering wheel. I can't believe I forgot!" Rachel was never happier than in that moment that her goal in life was to become an actress.

"I am so sorry you were hurt," Aaron said, sounding very concerned, but seemed to believe her lie. He even released the grip on her arms and pulled her in for a hug, patting her head protectively as he held her in his arms.

Red lights were flashing in Rachel's mind: something about this was _not right_, dangerous. Where he had held her too tightly there would undoubtedly be bruises. Despite the fact that she had no clue what was going on, she knew that angering or upsetting this boy would probably not end well.

"I'm so sorry I had to hit your car. There is hardly any damage, only a few paint scratches, which we can paint over easily. I can do it for you," Aaron said into her shoulder, still hugging her tightly. He gave her a peck on the cheek as he pulled away and Rachel's eyebrows raised in surprised as she jerked away from him.

"What do you mean you 'had to hit' my car? You did that on purpose? I could have been seriously injured!" Rachel's eyes widened and she took a step back, accusing eyes directed towards this stranger who seemed to know her. He looked down at his feet guilty.

"I know, but I just had to see you and there was no other way. You are always around Finn or Kurt, and I know you want to keep what we have a secret. But right now it's just us," Aaron's eyes lit up as he said this and Rachel tried to process what he was saying. Keep _what_ a secret? Who _was_ this boy?

"I-I," she stuttered, unsure of what to say. She needed to get back in her car _right now_ and drive away. She needed to get away from this person.

"You haven't replied to my texts, but I understood what you meant from the silence. You meant that you had to meet me in private, like this, where we could finally be together. I understand how jealous Finn could get if he found out. I'm the same way, you know…" His eyes were wide, hopeful, and absolutely _insane_. He stepped towards Rachel again and she stumbled backwards as her feet moved away from him in what must have been instinctual self-preservation.

Rachel's mind was reeling. _He_ had been sending her the text messages. He had been the one harassing her, thinking she _liked _it. And now she was on the side of the road with him, alone and completely defenseless.

"What's wrong, baby?" he asked worriedly. "Are you dizzy from hitting your head? Why don't you come sit in my car? I know you must be as eager as I am to be alone together after all of this time, but if you can't even stand up straight we'll have to take it slow." He took another step towards her and this time Rachel bolted away, making a run for her car door. She managed to pull it open about one inch before he reached her, his hands gripping her upper arms, pushing her forward into the car door roughly, causing it to slam shut. His chest pressed against her back and he began to nuzzle her neck from behind.

"Babe, don't worry, you're fine," he said softly and Rachel tightened her eyes in horror, wanting this to all be a dream to wake up from. But it wasn't. And he was pressed up against her, and she was stuck where she was. She took a few deep breaths to calm herself down, trying to assess the situation and figure out how the hell to get out of it.

"P-please let me go. I have to get something out of my car…" she said shakily, not know what else to say.

"We don't need anything but each other," he breathed into her ear and began grinding his hips into her lower back and kissing the side of her neck.

Rachel stood there shocked frozen, not knowing what to do. She was so scared of what this guy was doing to her; what he was _going _to do to her.

"I-I'm sorry baby," she forced out after about twenty seconds of deep breathing and planning. "I think I'm still in shock from the accident. But my head hurts and-and I need to sit down alone."

She closed her eyes and forced her body to relax into his, pretending he was Finn, convincing herself that this was the only way out of the situation. She would try to get him comfortable, reason with him, and if he didn't listen? Run like _hell_.

"I understand, but come sit down in my truck with me instead," he said nicely, and unpinned her from her car. He grabbed her hand loosely and pulled her towards his truck and, against her gut and every instinct telling her to run right there and right now, followed him into the cab of the pickup.

She sat down and scooted along the seat until she was pressed up against the passenger side door and as far away from him as possible. She let her head lean against the window, feigning a headache.

"How come we never go on dates, Aaron?" she asked lazily, making her eyes half-open, half-closed. There was _no_ way she was going to let him out of her sight.

"You don't remember our first date?" he said roughly, and Rachel noticed his hands grip the wheel of his truck tightly. This guy was a ticking time bomb.

"Of course I remember our first date, it was lovely. I meant why don't we go on _more_ dates? Tell me about our first one, though, I think it will help my headache… ease the pain…" Rachel said in what she hoped was a convincing, romantic, and loving voice.

"It was Valentine's day." Two weeks ago? That was when the texting started. Rachel narrowed her eyes in confusion, but put on a tiny smile as if to show she was remembering the time and enjoying that memory. It seemed to please Aaron because his hands fell off of the wheel and his body visually relaxed.

"I sat in the booth behind you… you and _Finn_," he said the name with bitter contempt but continued, "and we enjoyed each other's company in secret. I knew you wanted me there because when you made the plans with Finn it was right after we first met, when you helped me gather my books off of the ground in the hallway. You were looking straight at me, past him, and you told him (really me) to meet you at Breadstix… and it was the best date, wasn't it?" he said with a dreamy voice, a content sigh following question.

Rachel tried to pinpoint when this had all happened. _HOW_ this had all happened. How could this boy have misconstrued so many things she had done? How could he believe this made any sense when they hadn't exchanged a complete sentence before today?

"Yes… the best date…" Rachel choked out. When she felt the seat beside her move she turned her head to find Aaron leaning towards her slowly. She felt her eyes widen as he got closer and she sat up, more alert than ever. He smiled and she couldn't even pretend to smile back.

"I've been waiting for this – for _you_ – for what seems like forever," he whispered as his lips made first contact. The first few seconds of the kiss were still, Rachel frozen in fear/shock, Aaron trying to savor the connection. But after those few seconds a dark hunger took over and he was pushing his lips onto hers in a bruising manner. Rachel's eyes were wide in horror, and she could see that his were closed in what she could only assume was some form of _bliss_.

She let out a whimper and put her hands on his chest, trying to push him away, but he must have taken both protests as signs of encouragement because her lips were only met with more fervor from his end. His hands were on her hips, gripping her tightly, and he was quickly making his way upward.

"Na-no-stop," Rachel was able to mumble, pulling her mouth away from his just long enough to get out the words. To her surprise, he complied.

"What?" he asked, dazed, his eyes on her chest shamelessly.

"I-I can't do this. Not here," she said desperately, trying not to sound too scared.

"Shh, it's okay, don't worry…"

"No! I… I want us to be official before we do this. We need to… to let someone know," Rachel pleaded. Somewhere inside of his mind he believed that he loved her, and Rachel was trying desperately to feed off of that.

"My mom knows," he said impatiently and began to kiss her again. She tried to protest again, but he ignored her this time, pushing her against the door more roughly, kissing her with more force. She closed her eyes tightly, trying to not cry (because that would ruin everything, she was sure). His hands were already touching her in places she didn't want to think about. She had literally allowed herself to be put into this situation by following him into his truck and now she _needed_ to get herself out of it.

She put her hands on his chest once again and pushed him away with all of her force and he growled roughly as they were separated.

"What!" he spat, thoroughly annoyed.

"I have to meet your mother," Rachel said with such conviction that he gave her a long stare as if contemplating the request.

"Now?" he said with a 'don't cross me' edge to his voice.

"Yes," Rachel insisted. "I need to meet the woman who raised the man I love." His eyes widened and Rachel prayed to God that he had believed her. She was giving it her all right now.

"You love me?" he asked in awe, seemingly star-struck by the idea.

"Of course," she said without missing a beat, her eyes staring at his unwaveringly. "I love you," she repeated. If he hadn't been so enthralled with the idea he may have noticed the shakiness in her voice.

The grin that appeared on his face was so genuine the only cliché metaphor Rachel could think of to describe it was that of 'a kid in a candy store'. He leaned forward and kissed her again happily.

"I love you, too," he said, still beaming. Rachel nodded, her eyes still never leaving his. She couldn't trust herself to look away right now because she was sure that if she did her entire façade would fall.

"We'll go to my house and you can meet my mom," he said with a nod and quickly turned the key in the ignition.

"What about my car?" Rachel asked, genuinely curious. She was positive he wasn't going to let her out of his truck, but she didn't want a ticket for leaving her car on the side of a road like it was.

"We'll come back and get it afterwards," he shrugged as he began to pull away from the scene of the accident (that hadn't been an accident at all).

As Rachel watched the image of her car shrink in the side mirror she couldn't help but wonder if it would be the last time she'd ever see it.

XxXxX

"What about your dad?" Rachel asked, trying to kill the silence in the car. She didn't want him to over think anything she had done in fear of him figuring out it had all been a lie.

"What?" he said quickly, sounding surprised by her question.

"Your dad… you mentioned that only your mom knew about us. Where is your dad?"

"He left us. About a month ago," he said quietly, his eyes focusing on the road.

"I'm sorry to hear that. At least you have your mom," Rachel said nicely, trying to make him feel better. His eyes flicked towards her and a small grin began to appear on his face.

"And you. I have you," he said surely and Rachel nodded, feeling sick all the while. His hand snaked over to her, landing on her thigh, and he began caressing it, working his hand upwards. He gave her a sleazy grin and Rachel's heart began to race. She didn't want this, she didn't want him to touch her.

"Aaron…" she said warningly and brushed his hand away gently. "What if another driver sees?"

"I don't care," he replied roughly, sounding like he was getting irritated again, and placed his hand back onto her thigh more forcefully.

"But, Aaron, I'm nervous-,"

"Don't be," he said harshly, gripping her thigh roughly with his fingers digging in, and Rachel shut up and nodded tightly. She had to do it. If she didn't, he may have pulled over and done something else… something _worse_.

He was touching her and, God forgive her, her body was _responding_ to it. She closed her eyes at the beginning of it, trying her best not to look too disgusted by the prospect of him touching her in fear of what he would do if he noticed. Her lack of reaction, however, seemed to fuel him to do more, and it was only once her body had automatically jerked towards his hand that he seemed to slow down his movements. Unfortunately, that didn't completely stopped him, and it was only until he had rubbed her to an unwanted orgasm (eliciting a horrifyingly humiliating whimper that Rachel was positive would scar her for life) that he removed his hand from between her legs.

She was breathing heavily, trying not to cry in horror of what had just happened. Finally, when his hand was away from her body, she allowed herself to shake and once she began she feared she wouldn't be able to stop.

"Just wait until later. You'll be out cold once we're done," Aaron grinned at her and Rachel sat back in the seat, ignored him, and tried to steady her breathing. _There isn't going to be a later_, she reassured herself silently.

The situation was insane. She had placed herself into a dangerous environment with no way out, and she was the only one to blame. She had just literally _let_ him molest her. She (basically) _willingly_ got into a car with a stalker. To top it off, she was only about three inches from her cell phone tucked away inside of her purse, and just too _afraid_ to pull it out.

God help her. God _forgive_ her.

XxXxX

She didn't know if it was warranted, but Rachel felt a spark of hope ignite in her chest when they pulled into a familiar neighborhood that for one week last year she had found herself at more than once. As they drove through the winding houses Rachel's heart began to beat a little faster in anticipation.

As soon as the car stopped in Aaron's driveway she was going to run for it, and now that she knew Puck's house was about two blocks away she had a destination in mind.

But of course, that plan was hindered when Aaron pressed the button on a garage door remote and cruised into the garage of a small one-story house painted light blue. She noticed there was another car in the driveway and hoped beyond hope that his mother really _was_ home and that he wasn't lying about introducing them. Despite his obvious madness Rachel couldn't help but trust that he believed that somehow he was in love with her. In love with her enough to not lie, at least.

He grabbed her hand tightly as the car stopped completely and he pressed the button to close the garage door. Rachel watched the door slide lower in slow motion, her heart sinking. When the final '_thud_' of the door hitting the cement sounded Aaron pushed open the driver side door and pulled Rachel across the bench towards him, making her exit on his side and not releasing her hand.

When both sets of feet were on the ground, Rachel surveyed her surroundings, trying to figure out if there was a quick way to escape the garage, coming up empty. Aaron kissed her on the head as he slung an arm around her protectively, steering her in the direction of the door she presumed was into his house.

"My mom is going to love you," he said reassuringly and nudged her forward. Rachel smiled stiffly and walked forward.

The house was clean, if not a little cluttered, and tiny. The door from the garage opened up into the kitchen, which was decorated with all types of knick-knacks including fake fruits, ceramic Dalmatians, and plastic wine glasses.

"Sweetie, you're home! I made you some of those sandwiches you like," Aaron's mother said nicely from a different room. Rachel's head swiveled in the direction of the voice and she hoped to God that his mother wasn't as delusional as her son. At least she was there, though, which was a light in this dark tunnel of insanity Aaron was putting her through.

"Mom, I brought someone home today," Aaron said excitedly and pulled Rachel in the direction of the voice. They took a few steps together and Rachel came face-to-face with Aaron's mother who was on her way into the kitchen due to her son's arrival.

"Oh! And is this the famous Rachel that I have heard so much about?" his mother asked with a bright smile. She stuck out her hand and Rachel looked at it suspiciously for just a few seconds before grasping her hand.

"Hello, I'm Rachel Berry," she said as nicely as she could and gave his mother a look that screamed '_Help me!_', which she either didn't notice or pretended not to. Rachel let his mother's hand drop as the woman took a few steps towards her son and gave him a welcoming, loving hug.

"And how was your day today, sweetie?" she said sweetly and kissed her son on the cheek in a motherly way that Rachel had never experience and only witnessed.

As she watched their exchange, Aaron saying hello and accepting the food his mother had set on the countertop, Rachel started to realize what this boy had and what he was going to lose due to this insanity that had been the last hour (that is, if she ever got out of the situation and reported it). It was obvious that Aaron's mother loved him dearly, and from what he told her about his dad they were all the other had… and after today this semi-picturesque life would be shattered into a billion pieces. Not only will his mother have lost her husband, now her son would probably be committed into a mental institution.

Rachel cleared her throat politely and Aaron immediately reached for her hand again, which he had let drop in order to hug his mom.

"I was wondering if there is a restroom I could use?" she asked as casually as she could. Aaron narrowed his eyes but nodded and began to lead her to another room.

"Give me your purse," he ordered, and didn't bother to wait for her to give it to him herself. As he pulled her purse away Rachel's face fell. There goes _that_ plan.

"I'll be right here," he said and opened the door for her. She nodded and walked into the bathroom to find that it had no windows and just the door she had entered through.

When the door shut she leaned against the wall, allowing her face to fall and her knees to shake. She had to get out of here. She had to tell his mother what was happening somehow. Would she believe her? Would Aaron hurt his mother if she did?

She took a few deep breaths and stepped forward to flush the toilet and turned on the water to let it run as if she were washing her hands. She pulled open the medicine cabinet and sifted through the contents, looking for anything sharp just in case she would need to protect herself. Coming up empty handed she checked under the sink as well, also finding nothing to help her.

She sighed and turned off the water, took a deep breath, and pulled the door back open. Aaron looked at her suspiciously for a moment, seemed to decide there was nothing she could have done, and took her hand again, dragging her back into the kitchen. Rachel looked around, trying to get a good look at the house's layout, guessing where any exits could be. There wasn't one in the kitchen other than through the garage, so that meant the front door had to be just a room over, perhaps where his mother had come from.

"So, Rachel, did you want me to whip anything up for you?" Aaron's mother looked at the pair with sparkling eyes and Rachel knew instantly that it wasn't a common thing for Aaron to bring home girls and that this, to her, was a treat for both of them.

"I would l-,"

"No, we ate on the way here. I'm sure she's full," Aaron cut her off and Rachel snapped her mouth shut. She was trying to stall, keep his mom at a close distance, because she was pretty sure that he wasn't going to try anything dangerous with his mom nearby.

"Aaron, why don't you let her answer for herself. Rachel's a big girl!" his mother said pointedly and Rachel was positive that if they had been meeting one another in different circumstances they would have gotten along wonderfully.

Of course, that was not the case at the moment, and Rachel was currently at her wit's end trying to stay calm.

"But we're not hungry. We're going to go into my room," Aaron said quickly and began to pull Rachel towards a hallway. Rachel's feet rooted into the ground instinctively and she refused to be pulled forward.

"But we've hardly gotten to talk, Aaron," she insisted, and Aaron sent her a glare and gave her arm a tug.

"Later, Rachel."

"No, now, Aaron," Aaron's mother interjected and grabbed onto Rachel's other hand lightly and pulled her gently in the other direction. "We've only just met. Besides, shouldn't you tidy up your room before inviting your _girlfriend_ inside? Last time I checked, which was about ten minutes before you got home, it was a mess."

"No!" Aaron protested loudly.

"Don't speak to me like that, Aaron, go clean and then you and Rachel can spend time together," she warned darkly, and Aaron's jaw clenched in anger. _Was he always like this?_ Rachel wondered.

"Fine, but I'll only be a minute," he relinquished, and dropped Rachel's hand, to her great surprise, and raced off down the hallway to his room.

Rachel blinked a few times before darting towards what she guessed was the living room, and where she hoped the front door would be.

"We need to leave. Now." Rachel looked at Aaron's mother, whose name she still didn't know.

"What?" Her eyebrows raised in surprise as she followed behind Rachel closely.

"Your son is dangerous, Ms… I don't even know your last name! Until today I had never met your son," she explained seriously, her eyes boring into the older woman's.

"That's ridiculous, Rachel. I've been hearing about you for the past two weeks…" she said sternly, sounding confused, worried, and a little angry.

"No, no. I need to go right now," Rachel shook her head in persistence and took a few quick steps towards the door. She couldn't deal with Aaron's mother right now, she had to leave and call the police. Her hand was on the doorknob, twisting it to open the door.

"You need to leave with me, too," Rachel said quickly.

"Dear, calm down. I'm sure this can all be sorted out in just a moment… _Aaron_!" she called him and Rachel's heart dropped. She pulled open the inside door furiously and pushed the screen door forward, finally taking a step out - towards freedom. She spared a glace over her shoulder and saw Aaron approach his mother from behind.

"Come with!" she urged as she took another step out, but his mother was too confused. Aaron realized what was going on and he let out a wordless shout, bounding forward, knocking his mother to the side. Rachel saw her fall against the wall out of her peripheral vision and heard the surprised scream. She wanted to help, but her instinct to flee took over and she turned away instead and ran as fast as her feet would allow her, never looking back in fear of what she may see.

* * *

><p><strong>For the record<strong>, I would like it to be known that doing what Rachel did is _not_ advised. Getting into a car with a stranger, dangerous or otherwise, is bad, bad, bad! Obviously we've all heard this before, but don't let this case alter your perception. This story isn't based off of _any _concrete facts, and talking a criminally insane person out of what they are doing is a BAD course of action (because the likelihood of it actually working is slim to none) unless you're a trained professional (and I'm going to go out on a limb here and guess you're not lol).

**More coming soon! Please review!**


	2. Part 2

**A/N:** This second chapter is a little shorter than the last one, so sorry for that and the wait. After I got some feedback I was more inclined to update ;). Hope you enjoy and I look forward to hearing from you guys.

**Summary:** Rachel has been receiving crude text messages from what she thought was a bully for the past few weeks. When she learns that the person sending them wasn't a bully after all, but someone much more sinister, will it be too late to get away safely?

**Credit:**The inspiration (and some of the concepts) for this story originates from the movie _He Loves Me, He Loves Me Not_ (2002), a great film that I would recommend to anyone! If you can deal with the subtitles go watch it! And I don't own _Glee_ or the characters (duh).

* * *

><p><strong>Obsessed<br>Part 2**

Rachel wasn't a runner. She was never first to finish the mile in gym class, but she was never the last. Despite her usual stamina, she was quite sure that as she ran away from Aaron's dysfunctional home she could win the Olympics with the speed she was going. She wasn't sure if he was following behind her, but as she weaved through the yards of the neighborhood, making a beeline for Puck's house, she felt miles ahead. She climbed over two fences in the process, but didn't slow her pace until she was literally at Puck's front door, banging her fist on it as if her life depended on it.

His truck was in the driveway, he was definitely home, and right now he was taking too long to answer.

She spared a glance over her shoulder, fearing what she may see, but was met with a view of a nicely trimmed lawn and a clear blue sky. No one was in sight.

As the fear of threat began to dwindle she felt the adrenalin leave her body and realized how out of breath she was. She leaned forward, taking in as much air as possible, which she realized was becoming _more_ difficult with all of the panicking she was doing.

When the front door finally popped open Rachel didn't even wait to be welcomed in and took two steps over the threshold and slammed the door shut behind her.

"_Berry_?" Puck said incredulously as he watched her try to catch her breath in his entryway.

"Call the police," she managed to get out.

"What?" he said in surprise.

"Call them! Now!" she said roughly, and turned back to the door, twisting the locks into place frantically. Puck walked away from her quickly, into the other room.

When the locks clicked into place she felt a wave of relief wash over her and leaned her back against the wall, slowly sliding down it. She heard Puck from the other room talking into the phone. She heard him saying, '_I don't know_', a few times, but other than that all she could hear was her pulse in her ears.

Puck walked back into the entryway a few moments later, phone in his hand.

"They said eight minutes," Puck said oddly, looking down at her. Rachel nodded and put her face in her knees. "They kind of want to know what's going on… and so do I."

Rachel didn't talk. She was pretty sure if she tried she was going to fall to pieces, sobbing and crying, and she was _also_ pretty sure that Puck was not someone who would deal with a sobbing Rachel Berry very well. So instead of talking, she shook her head to convey that she wouldn't.

When Puck realized that she wasn't going to talk to him he sat down beside her on the floor and told her awkwardly that she could scoot closer if she wanted to, and that he "wasn't going to bite".

Despite his offer, Rachel stayed where she was, not moving any closer to him, shaking slightly.

When two loud knocks on the door interrupted the silence Rachel yelped in surprise and jumped about three feet up and away from the door.

"Whoa, calm down. It's just the cops, Berry," Puck said easily and stood up to unlock the door beside her.

"No! Make sure it's them before you unlock it!" she insisted, eyes wide and watching.

"Alright, calm down," he said lazily. He pushed back the drapes on the side window and spotted two officers clad in uniform, moving out of the way to prove to Rachel that they were, indeed, officers. "Happy?"

Rachel nodded and stood up on shaky legs, using the wall as support. The door opened and the two men walked in, giving Puck suspicious looks.

"We got a call…" the officer said with his chin up. He looked over at Rachel, who looked horrible, and then back at Puck, who looked fine.

"Yeah, uh, I called. My friend came to the door – this is Rachel – and she told me to call. She hasn't said anything though, which is pretty weird. She talks a lot most of the time. I think she's scared or something," Puck explained. He wasn't nervous, nah, cops were used to him. Actually, he was pretty sure that the one with the mustache had been the one to arrest him when he stole the ATM. For the moment, he knew that this whole situation was pretty weird and he understood that they needed the facts. Plus, he didn't want to be blamed for whatever shit Berry had gotten into.

"Miss? Any input? We take false calls very seriously," the cop said sternly and Rachel nodded but still didn't talk. The cop took a few steps towards her and she jerked away immediately. He stopped his advances as his partner's hand shot forward onto his shoulder.

"She may be in shock, Eric," the mustache-cop said warningly. "We should wait for the paramedics to get here."

"Right," Eric nodded in affirmative and turned to Puck. "What can you tell us about her?"

"Rachel Berry, she's a… friend of mine, I guess. We go to McKinley."

"She's underage? How old?"

"Uh, seventeen I guess? I don't know her birthday."

"You don't know your friend's birthday?" he said with snarky accusation and Puck narrowed his eyes.

"Aw, c'mon, you don't know _my_ birthday," Mustache said easily and rolled his eyes. Puck wasn't sure if this was a good-cop, bad-cop thing or just Eric being an asshole and mustache being nice.

"What is she doing here?"

"Like I said, I don't know. I was upstairs and heard some serious knocking on the door so I answered it. She basically fell into the house, out of breath, and slammed the door, locked it, and sat on the ground. She told me to call the police, and since she looked pretty freaked out I decided I should listen. She hasn't said anything since then."

"So you say," Eric said with a 'tsk' and Puck narrowed his eyes.

"Yeah, I _do_ say, because that's what happened!" Puck said defensively, annoyed with this guy's attitude.

"Alright, calm down Puckerman. We don't need you to get into any more trouble, alright?" Mustache interjected and pulled his partner away to talk to him alone. Puck glared but turned away from the cop and looked back at Rachel, who had been watching silently.

"So you're in shock?" Puck said with calculative look. He raised his arm and waved it slowly in front of Rachel's face to try and get a response.

"I'm not catatonic, Noah," she said softly and flicked her eyes up to meet his.

"She speaks!" he said playfully and looked back at the cops. "You good to talk to them now?" She clenched her jaw and nodded slowly, taking a step forward to leave the house.

"Hello," she said, getting the attention of the officers. They turned to look at her and the one with the mustache nodded nicely.

"Hello, Rachel, are you ready to talk to us now? We can wait for a paramedic if we have to, but you seem better now." Rachel shook her head.

"Can we call my dads first? I-I really want them." She felt herself get choked up at the end and stopped talking. Eric gave his partner a look (_dads?_) and Mustache shrugged.

"Sure, we just need a number." He pulled out a cell phone from his pocket and Rachel told him the number.

Her dads said that they would be at the police station in about fifteen minutes, despite the fact that they worked about twenty-five minutes away from it. They were horrified by the call (Rachel was not a criminal, so anything to do with the police was bad news for their baby), but quick to be at her aid. She hung up the cell phone and thanked Mustache as she handed it back to him.

The short chat with her fathers had calmed her significantly and when she sighed in relief she actually felt like things were going to be okay for the first time in hours. That was, until she remembered exactly what happened and how important it was to tell the police about it.

"I forgot! You need to go to Aaron's house; he was there with his mother. He was so angry, and he shoved her out of the way. Oh, God, I can't believe I forgot! He lives two blocks away, that's why I came here," Rachel suddenly spewed out the information (that made no sense to anyone but her) and walked up to the officer frantically. "She may be hurt!"

"Calm down, Miss Berry," Eric said seriously. "You need to tell us, slowly, what is happening."

"I got rear-ended on County and Aaron got out of the car and threatened me into his car, so he took me home to meet his mother, and I ran away because he was so angry and he shoved her. You have to go, he's dangerous!" Her eyes were wide with worry and she obviously didn't take the 'stay calm' advice by any means.

"You're going to have to come with us then, Rachel, and show us where this Aaron lives," Eric said seriously and started towards the police cruiser. Mustache politely led Rachel towards the car and she skipped forward and got into the back seat.

"We may need a further statement from you, Mr. Puckerman, so don't be surprised if we call. Thanks," Mustache said quickly as he walked away.

They were in the car in seconds and pulling away from Puck's house, the ambulance, which had pulled up about a minute before, trailing behind them. Puck, who was still standing in his doorway, was totally confused. He shut the front door, glad to be done with the cops for right now, and pull out his cell.

_You owe me an explanation, Berry, no excuses!_

He sent the text quickly, looking at the phone blankly, as if expecting answers to pop up on his screen for the questions concerning the last fifteen minutes. Of course, none came.

XxXxX

"It's this one, here," Rachel said frantically, pointing out the window. "The garage is opened, his car is gone!" The fear in her voice didn't go unnoticed by either officer but neither commented, more worried about the danger inside the house than in Rachel's mind.

"Stay here, Miss Berry, do _not_ leave the vehicle," Eric advised and Rachel nodded.

She watched as the two officers walked up to the front door cautiously, and knocked. They stood for about a minute before opening the door themselves (which must have been unlocked), and walked into the house.

Rachel watched as if it were a movie, transfixed by what may be inside the house. It was about two long minutes before one of the officers, Mustache, left the house, running towards the ambulance. She watched as two paramedics ran forward with a stretcher and disappeared in the house. It was after another minute the paramedics receded, carrying Aaron's mother on the stretcher. She wasn't moving but Rachel couldn't see much else. She looked back at the doorway and saw Eric on a cell phone and Mustache walking towards the cruiser, where she was.

She pulled open the door and looked at the officer expectantly.

"We need to know who 'Aaron' is, Rachel." It wasn't a question, and his voice was serious.

"Her son. He's a student at McKinley, I don't know what grade he is in or anything else about him. Is she going to be okay? I told her to leave with me! I asked her to come with but she was confused… I just ran away! Is she going to die?" Rachel was bordering hysterics, her eyes brimming with tears as she questioned the officer.

"It looks like she is going to be fine, Rachel. She has a concussion, according to the paramedics, but that's all they can tell for right now."

"How!"

"I don't know, but if you calm down and help us understand we can figure it out," he said stiffly, seeming to be annoyed with her frantic questions. Rachel took a few breaths and tried to calm down. She wiped away the tears that had fallen from her face and looked back at the officer, ready to talk.

"I don't know what is going on, really. I was on my way home from school and this boy that I didn't know hit my car. I pulled over and he seemed to know me and… I think he was stalking me or something. He thought we were in love, and I had never even talked to him before! And then I tried to get away and he shoved me, and he wouldn't let go of my arms, so I pretended to go along with it so he wouldn't hurt me anymore and-and," Rachel's face fell and she dissolved into a puddle of confusion as she tried to recall what happened. She was so lost, she was scared, and now she was feeling guilty for what had happened to this woman. That could have been her!

"This is my entire fault, I shouldn't have done a-any of this!" She started crying and the officer gave up trying to understand everything.

So far, he had gotten the idea that this unhinged teenage boy kidnapped Berry, brought her to his house, and then attacked his mother for letting her go. For the moment, that was enough. They had done a preliminary sweep of the house, coming up empty, and since Rachel had mentioned a car missing from the garage they assumed he must have driven off by now. Now they were waiting for backup to keep an eye on the premises while they escorted Rachel to the station.

Until then, Mike (aka Officer Mustache) would stake out the joint with Eric and quietly muse over how this was not how either of them had imagined the day would go.

XxXxX

Rachel had been at the police station for about an hour and a half before they finally let her leave. Her dads were there, worried sick and doting on her almost immediately upon her arrival. The first course of action was a medic checking out her arms and taking a few pictures of the bruises Aaron had left for evidence. After the initial check-up she was brought into a small office with her dads beside her. Five minutes after reassuring her dads that she was fine (for the most part), a detective entered the room and sat at the desk opposite of the family.

"Hello, my name is Detective Carter." The petite woman extended her hand to Rachel first and moved down the line to her dads. "I'll be the lead investigator of the case, so if you wouldn't mind explaining what happened, Rachel, I am ready to listen. I only ask that we have no interruptions and save all questions until the end." She directed the last part of the introduction to Rachel's fathers who nodded in agreement.

Rachel smiled at the two of them and gave them each a reassuring squeeze of her hand. They were sitting on either side of her, one dad per side, a wall of protection.

Despite the long-winded explanation, her fathers managed to stay quiet through most of it. Detective Carter was attentive and seemed to be appreciating the details Rachel was providing and didn't tell her that she was talking too much (a complaint that she got most often).

Only in the middle of the play-by-play did Rachel struggle. She had to stop to compose herself for about five minutes after getting through explaining what had happened on the drive to Aaron's house. This part, too, had seemed to concern the detective the most, although she had sat in silent discontent throughout Rachel's speech.

After recounting what happened Detective Carter looked down to read her notes before asking the questions she must have compiled.

"I am going to repeat the facts back to you so please tell me if I am correct or incorrect, okay?" Rachel nodded. "You say you had never talked to Aaron before today?"

"Yes, not that I can remember, at least. He said I helped him pick up his books and that's when he realized we were… meant to be." The detective nodded.

"And Aaron also recounted to you what he referred to as 'your first date'. It was on Valentine's Day and you were apparently sitting in the booth behind or next to him." Rachel nodded this time and the detective looked up at her, seriously.

"You do not remember seeing him? This is important to have on file. It needs to be known that you have _no_ connection to this boy." Rachel's brow furrowed in confusion.

"I don't… I don't remember seeing him there. I was with Finn the entire time, I hardly remember seeing my _friends_ there, let alone a boy I didn't even know. Why is that important?"

"It is important for if you press charges-,"

"Which we will!" Hiram declared sternly.

"Let her finish, daddy," Rachel looked at her dad, who sat back somberly.

"And I have no qualm if you _do_ press charges. If you do it is very obvious that the defense will take an insanity plea and, according to what you have told me, it will be very much warranted. If granted, it will mean his sentence will be carried out in a mental institution and he will be released upon medical/doctor approval. Depending on the amount of time spent in a hospital, the charges he is found guilty for, and if he is charged as a minor or an adult, Aaron could either be put on probation and released back into society _or_ carry out the rest of his time in a prison.

"If you decide against pressing charges, it is possible to come up with an agreement with the family, Aaron's mother, to have him institutionalized until he is deemed safe by a doctor. As I said, I have no problem with the idea of pressing charges, but from monetary and temporal standpoints it would seem this second option would be in your best interest. The only negative to this option would be that a molestation charge could not be put forth and he would not necessarily receive equal punishment for the misdeed… depending on how you define 'punishment', but that is a different matter all-together." Detective Carter looked at her fathers seriously and sighed, putting the folder down meticulously. Rachel noticed how it lined up perfectly with the desk.

"Cases concerning mental health are always more tricky. For this reason I would suggest careful contemplation before making any decisions about pressing charges."

Rachel looked down at her skirt as she played with the hem of it. This was crazy. Her entire world had just been turned upside down in the course of three hours. Why couldn't she have just had a normal Friday night? What happened to staying in and watching movies with Kurt?

"Oh no," Rachel said aloud, causing all three adults to look at her. She looked up and was met with three sets of eyes on her. "I, eh, forgot that Aaron had my purse. He made me give it to him when I told him I had to go the bathroom at his house. All of my things were in there – my phone, IDs, credit card…"

"Your phone?" Detective Carter asked quickly.

"Yes," Rachel admitted in defeat. Great.

"So we no longer have proof of the text messages you mentioned?" she asked for clarification. Rachel shook her head and put her head in her hands.

"I'm so sorry."

"Don't be sorry, Rachel. None of this is your fault, these things just happen," Detective Carter said with conviction. Rachel nodded, her throat tight as if she were about to cry again, but didn't speak any further.

"That's all that I have for now. If we have any more questions for you, Rachel, we'll give you a call. If you just give me a few minutes to process these notes I can give you the necessary paperwork to sign and the three of you can be out of here in no time. I know it has been a long day, I'm sure you can't wait to get home," she said sympathetically as she stood up. She grabbed the folder off of the table and strode out of the office with direction.

True to her word, she was back within five minutes and handed all of them necessary paperwork as well as a business card with a recommended counselor for Rachel. Her fathers did most of the talking on the way out and Rachel stood in the background quietly, more anxious to get home now that she was so close to actually leaving.

The car ride home was quiet, in which Rachel sat uncomfortably in the back seat, musing about how badly she wanted to shower and how this urge to _clean_ herself was probably not the healthiest thing.

"How do you feel about seeing a counselor, Rachel? I know the detective only mentioned it briefly, but your father and I agree that it may be a good idea," Rachel's dad LeRoy was sitting in the passenger seat, his body turned towards her in order to look at her fully and gauge her response. Rachel looked down at her lap and realized that it was probably a good idea, despite the mar it would put on her perfect record for NYADA. But that was irrelevant now, wasn't it? Now that she had been stalked, kidnapped, and whatever else, her name would show up on the Internet searches with multiple news hits anyways…

"I think that would be a good idea," Rachel admitted reasonably.

"I need a new phone," she said next, trying to change the subject to something more 'traditional-teenager'; cell phones were a good route.

"That is another thing I'm sure we _both_ want to mention." Hiram gave his husband a quick look of support and he continued. "We can't believe you didn't tell us about those text messages, sweetie. You should have let us know as soon as it began. No one harasses our daughter and gets away with it!"

"I didn't want to worry the two of you. I thought it was just a prank, considering all of the lewd things people already say about me at school – and those are definitely because they're jealous of my talents, don't worry daddy!"

"People say things to you at school?" LeRoy asked sounding concerned. Great! Now they were going to become overbearing and nosey. Rachel sighed.

"Not so much say as _draw_… on the girl's bathroom stalls. It's not a big deal, and obviously it is just the jealous girls since it is in the girl's bathroom. And you knew all about the slushies, but those have stopped due to the anti-bullying campaign last year," Rachel explained level-headedly. She didn't like her fathers worrying, it made her uneasy knowing that _they _were uneasy.

"That doesn't mean you shouldn't tell us, baby. If anything like this happens again you have to let us know."

"Don't worry, I think I've learned my lesson." Rachel hadn't meant to sound so biting, but she couldn't help it. They made it sound like all of this had been her fault and preventable! As if this _hadn't _scared her! She wasn't stupid. She really _had_ learned her lesson. If she received any more dirty text messages she wouldn't hesitate to tell someone.

"No need to be condescending, Rachel. We're just worried for you. We want you to trust us," LeRoy explained levelheadedly, with a sad look on his face. She had to give it to them; her dads had a knack for treating her like an adult. Unlike many of her peers who often bickered and yelled at their parents, Rachel and her fathers had discussions that usually ended in hugs and tea.

Much better than the alternative, no doubt.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to sound rude. I'm just…" she didn't finish the sentence because, quite frankly, she didn't know _what_ she was. She was scared, stressed, tired, hungry, upset, and still feeling pretty dirty for reasons she didn't want to think about.

"I know, Rach. We're almost home and we'll fix you up a nice plate of tofu stir-fry with some tea, how does that sound?"

"Perfect." And she meant it.

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><p><strong>For the record<strong>, I have no idea how actual legal proceedings work, so this is all from what I picked up from television shows and made up. Nothing that 'Detective Carter' says is legitimate in reality, only in the realm of the story!

**More to come, and don't be too shy: leave me a review!**


	3. Part 3

**A/N:** I really like this chapter. Meh, maybe it's just my love for dialogue, but it's all of the Rachel-explains-what-happened mumbo-jumbo! I know it took me a while to post, but I've been busy. I think there is only going to be one more chapter and (MAYBE!) a very short epilogue. Sorry to disappoint any of you, but I feel like I should warn you that there isn't going to be another climactic Aaron/Rachel encounter. Anyways please leave me some love, and I hope you enjoy!

**Summary:** Rachel has been receiving crude text messages from what she thought was a bully for the past few weeks. When she learns that the person sending them wasn't a bully after all, but someone much more sinister, will it be too late to get away safely?

**Credit:**The inspiration (and some of the concepts) for this story originates from the movie _He Loves Me, He Loves Me Not_ (2002), a great film that I would recommend to anyone! If you can deal with the subtitles go watch it! And I don't own _Glee_ or the characters (duh).

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><p><strong>Obsessed<strong>  
><strong>Part 3<strong>

Kurt had called the house three times, the last time leaving a message asking Rachel if she received his text messages and if they were still going to hang out that night. Only after a good, long shower, stuffing her face full of delicious vegan friendly stir-fry, and cuddling up in her bed with her favorite t-shirt of Finn's did she call him back and explain the chaos that had been her life for the past few hours.

"I'm coming over. Do you want me to come over? I don't have to, but I feel like you shouldn't be alone right now," Kurt said frantically after being debriefed.

"No, I think I need to be alone tonight. I'd be lying if I said I'm comfortable hanging out tonight, I'm still pretty shaken up. I… I'm afraid to tell Finn, Kurt. I don't want him to think any different of me…" she admitted worriedly, feeling the prickling of tears coming to her eyes. She had confided in Kurt what had transpired between her and Aaron only after an oath of silence was made.

"He won't, I know. He may be more protective… no, he _will_ be more protective, but he'll understand. He won't think any different of you," Kurt said surly, trying to reassure her in this time of need.

"Are-are you sure? I just don't want him to think I wanted… _it _to happen… like, I cheated on him. Kurt, I feel like I cheated on him." She felt a tear fall onto her cheek and brushed it off quickly. She was so sick of crying.

"You did _not_ cheat on him, Rachel Berry. You didn't do anything wrong." Kurt insisted again and Rachel nodded, even though Kurt couldn't see her.

"Okay," she said quietly, trying to hide the fact that she was crying. "I think I'm going to try and sleep. My dads are afraid I won't, but considering how exhausted I am I don't see how I wouldn't."

"Alright. Are you sure you don't want me to keep you company? I will walk over there right now in the freezing cold for you," Kurt offered selflessly. Rachel laughed, knowing how much Kurt hated the cold.

"I'm fine, don't worry. I'll talk to you tomorrow. If I'm feeling up to it maybe we can have that movie night… or you may see me if I decide to talk to Finn."

"Okay, have a good night. If you need to call me at all don't be afraid to, no matter what time it is."

"Okay, bye," Rachel said as she clicked the 'End' button on her landline phone. She set it on her bedside table, just in case she felt the need to call Kurt sometime in the night.

XxXxX

The clock read 3:19 AM when it rang. Rachel, who had been fast asleep, jerked awake in surprise and grabbed the phone. With tired eyes, she read the name on the caller ID.

Unknown

Her body tensed as the realization of who may be on the other end slammed into her mind. It began to ring for the third time and she clicked the 'on' button to stop the noise and held the receiver at a distance in fear of what she may hear on the other end.

"_Rachel_-,"

She screamed. She clicked the off button, dropped the phone, and ran to her dads' room faster than she had ever moved in her life. She jumped onto their bed hysterically and began to cry into one of their shoulders (she couldn't tell whose it was, and it didn't really matter), but they were hugging her and saying nice things to her in order to comfort her.

"It's okay, you're okay."

"He called! He was on the phone! He called, he knows our phone number, and he knows where we live!" Rachel was inconsolable.

Hiram hugged her tightly and LeRoy stood up to grab another phone to call the police. They had been advised to report any suspicious activity and were even offered police protection (which they politely declined, since they had a superb security system in their house as it was).

"He can't get to you, you're safe here. Want to sleep in here tonight sweetie?" Rachel nodded into his shoulder. She hadn't slept in the same bed as her dads since she was about five and still afraid of the dark, but at that moment she felt like she wouldn't be safe anywhere else.

"The police said that they would monitor the phones from their end and try to trace any numbers via satellite. Technology these days can be quite scary," LeRoy said as he got back into bed with his partner and daughter. "Joining us for a night, baby?"

"If you don't mind…" Rachel said, feeling ridiculously immature.

"Never," he said and gave her a loving hug.

Rachel grabbed the blanket and pulled it up to her neck, refusing to allow any part of her body to be exposed to the air. She had a weird, unreasonable sense that any part of her left uncovered was subject to attack.

Despite her dads and the proximity, Rachel didn't sleep the rest of the night.

XxXxX

"Hi," Rachel said timidly as Finn opened the door to his house and stepped aside to let Rachel in. After serious consideration she decided that she would tell him what happened sooner rather than later, and promised Kurt that she would be spending the night at his place for movies. Even though she was nervous, anxious, and whatever else she was feeling, she was determined to not let what happened interfere with her life. She had already lost one night of sleep thanks to Aaron and it wasn't going to become a regular thing.

With that in mind, she marched up Finn's driveway at approximately four o'clock Saturday, ready to tell him about what had happened.

"Hey, Rach, want to come up to my room? Or did you want to go for a drive?" Finn smiled and leaned forward to greet her with their usual kiss on the lips. He was about an inch away before she jerked backwards, unable to let it happen. Finn stood up straight and gave her a weird look.

"Did I do something wrong?" he asked.

"I-no, no. I don't know what… I'm sorry," Rachel said in confusion, honestly surprised by her movements. Where had _that_ come from? She wanted to kiss Finn! She _loved _Finn.

"Oh. Okay." Finn was looking down at her expectantly and she realized she hadn't answered his initial question.

"Let's go up to your room, I don't think driving is a good idea." She took the first step forward, taking the initiative to lead them to his room.

Yesterday, her fathers had taken a drive to pick up her car, which they found exactly where she left it. As of right now, the prospect of driving was pretty unappealing, in fear of a repeat of The Incident, so naturally she decided to avoid the road and head up to Finn's room to talk. Besides, if she had the urge to cry (which she was expecting she would) she wouldn't have to worry about driving.

When they were in his room she took a seat on his bed, her back straight and body turned slightly to Finn who seated himself beside her.

"I have to tell you something," Rachel said professionally, as if she was about to make a business presentation to a room full of clients.

"Ookay, and I'm ready to listen," Finn said with a smile.

"It's about those crude text messages I was receiving. I learned yesterday who was sending them to me." Rachel decided it would be best to start there, at the very beginning. Finn's smile fell from his face and a sour expression formed.

"Who was it? Was it one of the guys on the team? Do I know him?" Rachel's posture fell slightly but she held her resolve.

"No, I don't think so. His name is Aaron and he is a year younger than us in school." She had learned that tidbit of information yesterday at the police station.

"Aaron? I've never heard of him. Why was he doing it?" Finn asked, looking surprised that it was someone random.

"Well, it seems as if he developed a… crush of sorts on me. A few weeks ago." Finn's eyebrows rose to his hairline.

"He had a crush on you? So he sent you messages like… like he was sending?"

"Er, yes, and… yesterday was… not a very good day," she confessed to him, and finally allowed her shoulders to droop slightly and her stolid expression to crumble.

"What do you mean?" he asked carefully.

"He… he was, abrasive, to say the least." Rachel noticed Finn's blank expression and realized he didn't know what the word meant. "I mean he was blunt and rather violent about the whole unraveling of everything."

"Violent?"

"Yes, he decided that forcing me into his car and trying to violate me would be the best way to show how much he liked me. Finn… he's been following me around for two weeks, he knew my cell phone number, where I live, and who knows what else." Rachel watched Finn's expression harden as he took in what she said. He looked angry, very angry.

"I swear I didn't give him any impression that I liked him. I hadn't even met him until yesterday."

"I'm not worried about that, I trust you, Rachel! What do you mean he tried to 'violate' you? Did he touch you?" Finn asked worriedly, angrily, and moved forward as if to inspect her. Rachel jerked backwards again at his quick movements, unintentionally.

"Why are you jerking away? What did he do?" Finn asked desperately but didn't try to touch her again.

"I'm sorry, I don't know why I'm doing it, and I-I can't help it. I trust you, Finn, I just… he grabbed me a lot. I have a few bruises on my arms," Rachel apologized, feeling horrible that she couldn't stop treating Finn like this. She pulled up the left sleeve of her sweater and showed him the bruises on her upper arm and wrist. "He held me down a-and he kissed me a few times. I was too afraid to push him away. And-and he… he _touched_ me. I tried to push him off but he wouldn't stop. I got scared he would do more to me if I kept fighting and I j-just let him. I _let_ him. I am _so _sorry, Finn. I didn't want to, I swear, I just didn't know what else to do."

At the last confession Rachel bowed her head guiltily, feeling horrible but needing to tell him. It was unfair that she had done this to him _again_. First with Puck and now with this boy she didn't even know! She was the worst girlfriend in the world. She felt the tears trail down off her cheeks and fall onto her leg. She covered her face in her hands, too ashamed of herself to do anything else.

"Rachel, Rach," Finn said after a few moments of silence. She was too afraid to look up at him.

"I'm so sorry, Finn. You probably want to break up with me again, but you just have to know I didn't mean to do this to you again," Rachel cried, feeling like her heart was ripping into two. Again.

"No! No way, Rachel, this isn't like last time," Finn said finally, but his voice didn't sound normal.

"You didn't want to, right?" Finn asked, sounding unsure, looking for solid confirmation.

"No. Not at all. I just didn't know what else to do! I was so scared, Finn!" Rachel fell into a fit of sobs and leaned sideways into Finn's chest, hoping beyond hope that he would forgive her and hug her back.

It took him a few moments but in the end his arms wrapped around her securely and pulled her close to his chest. She let out an extra sob of relief when she realized that he was forgiving her.

"I'm so, so sorry," Rachel repeated through her sobs.

"No, no, don't… you didn't want to so it's not your fault," Finn said awkwardly. He didn't want to say the wrong thing. He didn't know what to do. Some asshole had touched his girlfriend and now she was a crying mess and thought it was her fault! What was he supposed to do? He was only seventeen!

"Do you still love me?" Rachel dared to ask quietly, muffling her words with his t-shirt on purpose. The question in itself was embarrassing enough. What if he said no?

"Yes," he replied without even a second delay. "I just don't know what to say. I don't want to say the wrong thing and make you cry more."

Rachel let out a choked sob/laugh and loosened her tight hold on him in order to put enough space between them so she could look up at him.

"Thank you, Finn." And she meant it so much more than he would ever know.

XxXxX

That evening flew by. Rachel spent the afternoon with Finn, enjoying one another's company with a new sense of understanding. Despite the awkward, albeit unintentional, jerking away from Finn that happened a few times that night, Rachel couldn't help but feel closer to Finn than ever before.

When Kurt finally dragged her out of Finn's room and into his for their movie night, Rachel was feeling the weight of exhaustion on her again. She had hardly slept the night before, and with everything else building up it was no wonder she fell asleep almost immediately after laying down. The following morning she apologized to Kurt about ten times for falling asleep only halfway through the first movie and promised that she would make it up to him by going shopping later in the week.

Her fathers reported to her as soon as she got home that there hadn't been another phone call at three in the morning and Rachel felt a sense of relief. They did receive another call, however, from a one Sally Dolan, Aaron's mother. She called requesting that Rachel come and visit her at the hospital sometime that day (Sunday) to talk. She was required to stay the weekend to keep an eye on her concussion – the origin of which Rachel still didn't know.

Rachel and her fathers discussed it in length, and after weighing the pros and cons they decided that visiting the woman could be good for Rachel. In a way Sally was just as victimized by Aaron as Rachel had been, only in a very different way.

It took her a few minutes to bark up the courage to actually walk into Sally's private hospital room, but when she did she was met with a very welcoming smile.

"I'm so glad you decided to come, Rachel," she said sincerely and Rachel smiled, not knowing how to respond to that.

"I feel the need to apologize directly for… what has happened," Sally's expression turned serious, her eyes boring into Rachel's. "I should have known something was wrong with Aaron. I should have realized that something was odd about how much he spoke of you without introducing you or having stories about the two of you. The police and I had a long conversation and despite their reassurances that this wasn't my fault I cannot help but feel responsible. And I hope that somehow you can learn to forgive me and, in time, my son for our misgivings."

Rachel looked down at the sheets covering Ms. Dolan's feet, not brave enough to look into her face. _Forgive_ him? Understand him, Rachel could do, she was trying to – she _wanted_ to… but… to forgive him was a different story.

"In time, maybe," Rachel said honestly, noncommittally. "You don't have anything to be sorry for, though. I don't need to forgive you because there isn't anything to be forgiven."

"You sound like the social worker they forced me to talk to," Sally chuckled good-naturedly and Rachel spared a small grin.

"Hopefully in time you'll be able to forgive yourself, then," Rachel offered. Sally gave her a sad smile and nodded.

"In time, maybe." The repetition of Rachel's own words didn't go unnoticed and neither did the meaning behind them.

"I do have a question, if you don't mind…"

"Anything, dear, I owe you that much."

"I'm wondering how you got a concussion. Was it when he pushed you out of the way? I saw that… I-I could have stayed and helped you… I… I felt horrible for leaving, so you know. I sent the police over fairly quickly…" The guilt on Rachel's face didn't go unnoticed by Sally.

"You have nothing to be sorry for. You should not have stayed, and don't ever think you should have. You were scared. God forbid, if you_ had_ stayed-," Sally stopped suddenly and pursed her lips, finally reaching a point where she felt uncomfortable further expanding. The '_what if_' thought train was a dangerous one, as Rachel had learned over the past few days.

Sally cleared her throat and answered the question. "After you left I tried to have Aaron explain to me why he was so angry about your departure, which he was. Cursing and throwing things – hmph, not things I raised him to." She shook her head and pursed her lips in disdain. "But he refused to talk coherently; whether or not he could is a different question. In his anger he picked up one of the many ceramic figurines I have littering the rooms of the house (you must have seen them) and hit me with it right across the face. The next thing I knew I was waking up here."

Rachel's eyes were wide in surprise. Aaron had beat up his own mother, what could he have done to _her_? He was still out there… what would he be willing to _do_ to her, if he found her? The fear must have been written all over her face because Sally's next words were comforting.

"The police said that they are actively looking for his truck and that they've taken necessary precautions to keep you safe. I asked them myself."

"What happens if they find him?" Rachel had been wondering this all weekend.

"He will be arrested for assault, and although I do not plan on pressing charges the state might. The police as well as the social worker I mentioned recommended admitting him into an involuntary mental institution. Since the last thing I want is for my baby to go to prison I agree that he should be admitted for his safety as well as others." Sally spoke as if she had disconnected her emotions from the content of the words. Rachel looked at her sadly, but didn't comment.

"I've had time to consider our options, and that is the only one that makes sense. I love my son, but he needs help if he was willing to do this t-to me…" her eyes began to water and Rachel looked away politely, pretending to find the tile patterns very interesting.

"Thank you for coming to see me, Rachel. My sister from Colorado is flying in on Wednesday, but until then I don't have any family in Ohio so it has been lonely here at the hospital. Plus I felt compelled to apologize, so it was a win-win for both of us." Sally finally spoke up after about a minute of sniffling.

"It wasn't any trouble and I'm glad I was able to keep you company for a little while." Rachel stood up, feeling that it was about time to leave, and Sally smiled up at her nicely.

"I'm sure we'll be seeing one another soon, dear. When they find Aaron, which they will." Sally spoke carefully, not wanting to mention anything too serious that would put a damper on the mood (not that it wasn't already on the depressing side).

"I hope, for your sake, that he is well," Rachel said, not sure if she meant it or not. She liked Sally, sure, but it wasn't easy to forget how much Aaron scared her no matter how nice his mother was.

"Thank you."

XxXxX

It wasn't until school the next day that Rachel realized she had forgotten all about Puck and giving him an explanation for what transpired at his house. She'd gone out of her way to talk to everyone except for him over the past few days, when he was the one who deserved the most clarification. As if he didn't already have enough problems with the police, she involved him in her nonsense. So far, he hadn't pressed her for information, as Kurt would have, and he hadn't called her five times a day to talk, as Finn would have.

"I forgot that I need to talk to Puck," Rachel said to Finn while the walked down the hall together before classes. Rachel always liked to show up about fifteen minutes early for class, just in case.

"Well that's not going to happen until later. Puck never comes to school before second period." Finn looked over by Puck's locker to find the hallway empty, as expected.

"Right, then it will have to wait until lunchtime. If I don't show up at first just assume I'm talking to Puck." Finn had been pretty adamant about knowing Rachel's whereabouts over the past few days, which Rachel found sweet in its own way. If he kept it up for more than a week, then they'd have a problem. But for right it was sweet.

On the bright side of things Rachel realized that no one in the school other than Kurt, Finn, and she knew anything about what had happened to her on Friday. She had sworn them into secrecy and, lucky for her, they could both keep promises.

When lunchtime came and was halfway through, there was still no sign of Puck.

"He doesn't like Mondays," Finn supplied with a shrug when Rachel asked him about it.

"Maybe I'll go to his house after school then."

"No! You're not going anywhere near that neighborhood… at least, not without me. And I have football after school today," Finn said worriedly, giving Rachel a stern look that said he wasn't kidding. He slung an arm over her shoulder protectively and Rachel scooted up against him closer. It was nice to feel safe, and to know that Finn wanted her safe. Even though he was being a little overbearing lately she couldn't blame him for it, and even sort of liked it considering how abnormally scared she was feeling lately.

She realized how paranoid she was being in forth period when she sat down in the first row at the beginning of class and, for the rest of the forty minutes, constantly looked behind her to see if anyone was staring at her. Anyone could be, right? It happened with Aaron, it could happen again.

"Puck will be at football _with_ you, Finn," Rachel supplied smartly.

"Oh yeah. Well I'll send him a text right now and find out where he is for you," Finn sighed when he realized that Rachel would probably over-think the whole Puck situation and go to his house anyways without him after practice. She was stubborn like that, but he had learned to love it.

_r u at school today, rachel wants to talk to u_

Finn tipped the screen to Rachel so she could read it quickly before sending the text. It was only two minutes later that Puck replied.

_Im at the bleachers outside, not hungry_

Finn showed her the text and she sat up a little straighter in her seat. She told Finn what to type and he did.

_rachel wants to go out there, is that ok?_

Puck responded with a yes and Rachel was on her feet in seconds.

"I can walk you out there, hang on," Finn said quickly, trying to finish his food, stand, and catch up with Rachel all at the same time.

"No, no, I'll be fine. I'm just going to talk to him. I'll see you in between our next classes, okay?" Finn looked down at his half-eaten lunch and then back at Rachel before sitting back down and deciding that he was hungry and Rachel was safe to go out there on her own, especially because Puck was out there. He nodded and Rachel waved as she turned on her heel and walked away quickly.

True to his word, Rachel found Puck sitting lazily on the bleachers outside, watching one of the gym classes full of students with a different lunch period run around the track.

"Why aren't you hungry? And aren't these bleachers a little uncomfortable to be sitting here for half an hour straight when there are more viable options?" Rachel asked smartly as she walked up a few steps and sat beside Puck.

"I dunno, and I'm good," Puck said simply and looked over at her. "So you owe me that explanation now, huh?"

"That's exactly why I came out here. This is actually a nice place to sit and talk, away from listening ears." Rachel sat up straighter and turned to face Puck to show that she was open to conversation. He gave her a weird look as she changed her posture but didn't comment – he had seen enough Berry-craziness to know not to ask.

"Well then, talk. What was with the cops? I had to try and convince my mom that I didn't do anything wrong. One of our neighbors saw them come to my house and narc'd on me!"

"I'm sorry about that, Noah, but I'll have you know that your assistance was well worth the trouble. I didn't say thank you. Well, actually, I didn't say much of anything when I showed up. I was in quite a state, wasn't I?" Rachel rambled on, avoiding the topic at hand.

"Yeah, and you still haven't gotten to that part yet. What was going on? I texted you."

"Oh, I didn't know. I lost my phone just before I showed up at your house. Someone else had it – has it, but we disconnected the number so it's not really my phone anymore. I should be getting new one later in the week. That's why Finn texted you just now and not me."

"Who?"

He was obviously good at deflecting Rachel-deflection. As much as she rambled, he seemed to ignore it all and get to the issues at hand.

"His name is Aaron Dolan, he's a junior and-,"

"Oh, that kid lives in my neighbor, right? I've seen him around, walking to the bus and stuff. What's he got to do with anything?"

"Well, he seemed to have developed a type of… _crush_ on me recently." Rachel tried to make it sound as simple and dismissive as possible. "He managed to get me into his house against my will. I took the first opportunity I could to run away, and ended up at your house due to the proximity."

Puck gave her a confused look. _Bring on the questions_, Rachel thought to herself. And bring he did.

"How did he manage to get you into this house?"

"He scared me into his car and drove me there. He pulled into the garage and led me into the house." Explaining what had happened out loud like this, with as little detail as possible, made Rachel feel like she was a complete idiot. This was always where her train of thought would lead her when she would run through what happened to her: why had she gotten into the truck with Aaron? Was she really _that_ scared and _that_ unsure that she wouldn't have been able to get away? She knew that if she could do it over she would run away, no matter the possible repercussions. At least if she had ran it would have looked like a fight, rather than rolling over and allowing herself to become a victim.

"He scared you into his car?" Puck repeated incredulously, not understanding how that could happen.

"I thought he was going to hurt me if I didn't." Puck nodded but somehow Rachel knew he had made a different assessment.

"What?" she couldn't help but ask.

"You just go into a car with him because you were scared of him? What would he have done if you didn't get in? Did he do anything even though you _did_ get in?" Puck wasn't big on talking or asking questions, for that matter, so Rachel was surprised by his interest.

"Well, yes I got into the car with him. He was being inappropriate and rough with me _not_ standing up to him. He scared me. At the time I was thinking that I was choosing the lesser of two evils…" She realized how stupid it sounded as soon as she said it.

"I would have put up a fight," Puck said surely, nodding at the idea. Rachel hung her head and sighed.

"I think I wish I had, but at the time, being in the situation, I was too scared. I'm not very good at fighting anyways."

"Well I guess it worked out either way, right? You got away and that's what matters," Puck recovered, noticing how Rachel's shoulder sank as she overanalyzed the situation (which she always did).

"Right," Rachel half-heartedly agreed and sat back against the seat behind her on the bleachers.

Puck looked at her out of the corner of his eye, wondering if he could ask the question nagging at him: was she okay? He hadn't insinuated that she was, but neither had she. But something was holding him back, and that was the sheer fact that it wasn't him place to ask her, was it? Sure, he didn't want her to be hurt or whatever, but she was walking, talking, at school, and basically functioning normally, and that meant she was okay _enough_.

He didn't ask.

"This is kind of our spot, isn't it?" Rachel said suddenly, looking calmly at the empty field.

"Uh, yeah, I guess," Puck shrugged, not really into labeling 'spots.' This was just a cool place to sit if he didn't want to talk to other people. Rachel smiled at him, and he didn't really know what that smile meant but he didn't bother asking: sometimes girls were just better to take at face value.

"Well, thank you for talking to me, Noah. I'm glad you didn't bombard me with questions like Finn did, it was refreshing to just sit and enjoy the silence." Rachel sat up and turned to leave.

Puck looked at her, glad that he had made the right decision about asking her if she was okay.

"Yeah, no problem," he finally said to her when he realized she was walking away and about five rows down the bleachers. She turned around slightly and gave him a friendly wave to acknowledge she's heard him and walked off of the field, back to school.

* * *

><p><strong> For the Record,<strong> I have no clue if a Satellite-phone-tracker-thing-whateverImade up actually exists lol. For the sake of the story, the Lima Police Station is in possession of some extraordinary technology!

**Please Review, and thank you so much for reading so** far!


	4. Part 4

**A/N:** The end is near, my dears! I'm so sorry for the wait but I hope you guys like the update regardless. This will be the final chapter, but there will be a short epilogue posted very soon (and I really mean it this time). If I get too eager it may not even be a week long wait ;). Thanks for everyone who's read, followed the story, and/or favorited it. You all keep me motivated to write more! On a somewhat different note, I've been obsessed with Criminal Minds lately and it's actually helped inspire me to finish up this last chapter and the epilogue. Anyways enjoy!

* * *

><p>"We found him at a motel in the next town over. The manager said that he rented him the room out of pity. Renting to anyone under the age of twenty-one is illegal in Ohio. It wasn't until the next day and Aaron told him that he had no money to pay for the room that he called the local police. It was a lucky catch."<p>

Rachel and her fathers were sitting in the Lima Police Station, talking to Detective Carter, who had called them and told them the good news: Aaron had been found and arrested.

"Where do we go from here?" Hiram asked eagerly, wanting to get past this.

"Well if you considered whether or not you wanted to press charges it's the time to do that. I have to warn you, however, that Aaron was subjected to a casual psychological analysis by request of his mother when he first was arrested, and those results strongly suggest signs of mental illness. As I mentioned before, that may hinder any attempts to have him confined in a federal prison or juvenile detention center."

"We have decided to not press charges so long as he is committed for an indefinite amount of time," Rachel announced from beside her fathers. Both of them turned their heads towards her, surprised by her declaration.

"No!"

"Rachel, we need to discuss this more."

Rachel glared at her fathers and then turned back to the detective politely.

"I refuse to testify," she said simply. Her fathers looked dumbfounded, and Rachel had a feeling that she was in for a long lecture when they got home.

"Yes you will!" Hiram said authoritatively, refusing to agree with Rachel on her decision.

"I will _not_," she pressed, making it very clear that her decision was final.

"This is as insane! You're acting just as crazy as this Aaron kid, Rachel," Hiram argued, his voice rising in frustration.

"Hiram, you need to calm down. This is up to Rachel," LeRoy tried to calm down his partner.

"You cannot agree with her, LeRoy! What he did to her was inexcusable and he needs to be punished!" Hiram looked at his husband incredulously.

"And he will be punished as well as _cured_ when he is committed. Daddy, he's sick," Rachel interjected smartly.

"No, he's disturbed and needs to be kept away from the public," he said resolutely.

"Rachel, if you refused to testify then I will have to draw up a Disciplinary Settlement Agreement that both parties must sign. That is a contract that outlines the terms of both parties and, should either party break the agreement, guidelines to repercussions of contract breach." The detective looked at the family seriously.

"I can let you discuss it further, but I would recommend that you decide sooner rather than later. We can only keep him in county for about five days, otherwise he will be let out with restrictions until there is a set date to see a judge. If it is any consolation, Miss Dolan seems ready, if not eager, to write up an agreement and having her son placed into an institution. It is a rare thing that a mother is so compliant, but I do believe that she was just as frightened by her son's actions as you were Rachel – although on different levels and for different reasons, of course."

"We'll take a few days to decided and call you," Hiram said quickly and looked over at Rachel seriously. She rolled her eyes and ignored the whole fatherly-protection thing he had going. It wasn't often that either of her fathers got mad or annoyed with her, but when they did it was not a fun time in the Berry household.

The family left about twenty minutes later after going over further details, and was home within the hour.

"I don't understand why you are so reluctant to testify, Rachel. Don't you see that testifying would give this boy the opportunity to not only recover from his illness, but also face legal repercussions for what he's done? I am disappointed in your decision." Not disappointing in her, but in 'her decision.' It was so like her father – to spin words to sound meaningfully, but biting at the same time. He was a lawyer at heart, after all.

"Why? I would much rather see him regain his mental health in a psychiatric facility than be locked up and probably abused by violent men in prison. You weren't there, dad, he was… delusional. He was insane, but it wasn't violently… more so, he was sad. I'm not saying that he isn't dangerous, but I honestly believe he could get better after some time and medication. He went through a lot over the past few months and, from what I learned about him by asking around school, asking him, and by asking his mother he seemed perfectly normal before his father died."

"So it was his mother that planted these crazy ideas into your head!? We never should have let you talk to that woman!" Hiram was adamant against Rachel's decision still, while LeRoy watched and listened from the sidelines.

"From all of that the only thing you retained was that I learned a bit about Aaron from his mother?" Rachel asked incredulously, not believing that her father could be so careless in making such a huge decision about someone's life. "But no, it wasn't her fault that I don't want to press charges or testify. This was my decision, and you're going to have to deal with it!" Rachel stomped her foot on the ground (like a child, sure, but she had to get her point across).

"Rachel why don't you go upstairs while I talk to your father down her," LeRoy finally interjected and Rachel sighed and turned away from her dads, happy to get out of the room. She needed to calm down, she knew, but they wouldn't listen to her. Her dad thought she was a traumatized little child who was too broken up to make clear decisions! Well, she wasn't!

"I can't believe you're going to side with her!"

"I'm not siding with either of you…"

Their voices disappeared when she shut the door to her bedroom and fell onto her bed, exhausted. She wanted this to be over. No, what she really wanted was for this to never have even _happened_, but that wasn't plausible and now she was stuck picking up the pieces to this smashed up puzzle that became her life.

XxXxX

Two families arrived at the police station separately. They entered two different rooms but heard the same speech from two different detectives. There were two lawyers present, one in each room.

One family was connected, holding hands in a line, feeling apprehensive, but the onset of relief was on the horizon. They were determined; sure that the contract they were about to sign would lift a weight off of their shoulders, helping them move on.

The other family was disjointed, broken but taking strides to turn it right again. The agreement was a weight on their shoulders, and with the stroke of a pen the family's life would officially change, but hopefully for the better.

Rachel's dads had finally conceded and agreed on a settlement rather than pressing charges. The settlement was drawn up in one day, approved by a judge the next, and was now being signed on the third.

The agreement stated that Aaron would be institutionalized for at least eight months. After the first whole year of therapy it would be up to the psychiatrists to decided when release was an option. He was also required to stay at least five hundred feet away from Rachel at all times, indefinitely. Any form of contact would constitute as harassment and would be met with serious consequences, and possible imprisonment due to the infringement on the agreement.

"I think this was the best course of action in this case," detective Carter said with a look of approval as Hiram signed the settlement, filling in the last of the three necessary signature lines.

"So Aaron will be committed to the institution directly from here?" LeRoy asked for confirmation and the detective nodded.

"Yes, sir. He will be driven to the private institution about two hours from Lima with a police escort."

"Great," Hiram said stiffly, seriously.

"I'm glad this is over now." Rachel breathed a sigh in relief. "Now all I have to do is get through those counseling sessions."

"A good idea," the detective said as she stood up to dismiss the family. Rachel smiled at her brightly, feeling an odd sense of freedom after the signing. It was nice to feel safe, and to know that things were going to be back to normal soon. No more police stations, no more interviews, and no more Aaron.

They all exited the room after her dads asked a few extra questions for clarification on the settlement. Rachel was distracted, however, by the couple walking out of the room across from her. Of course, it would be at the exact same time that she was exiting that an officer was escorting out Aaron and his mother.

She froze. She didn't even understand why. If anything, she should be trying to leave as quickly as possible, but for some reason her feet were rooted into the ground and her eyes were glued to Aaron, who was shuffling forward and staring at his feet.

When he looked up she inhaled sharply, preparing for whatever _thing_ he was going to do.

But nothing came. He just stared into her eyes, his eyes looking hollow, like he didn't even see her there.

"Rachel?" Her father's hand was on her arm, tugging her away and out. She stumbled forward as her feet began to work again and she moved away. Her head snapped to her dads, who looked nervous and anxious to get her away.

"C'mon baby," her dad pulled her forward gently and she complied, not really thinking anything, allowing her body move on autopilot.

"I-I'm coming," she stuttered, and turned her head back for a last glance, unable to _not_ look. He was still staring at her, watching her, studying her like he would never see her again. She shuddered, finally feeling the urge to flee.

When she turned the corner she felt a sense of relief, knowing she was out his line of view. But that relief turned to horror when she heard the scream from behind her. He was sobbing her name, desperately crying out for her.

"Rachel c'mon," her dad said from somewhere in front of her and pulled her forward more urgently. She wasn't sure what was happening around her because all she could focus on was the crying. He sounded like he was being torture; she wanted to… _help_ him. Or something… She didn't know what she wanted other than for him to stop screaming her name. He was horrifying, sad, and sounded broken. But she could fix him, couldn't she? She was what he was asking for.

He was screaming her name, begging her to come back, yelling that he loved her and that they should run away together.

And then it stopped. She was outside. The door to the police station shut roughly behind her, silencing the inhuman sounds of a psychotic fit that was, she couldn't help but feel, her fault. She knew, somewhere in the back of her mind, that it wasn't her fault at all and that she had nothing to feel guilty for. But that didn't stop the feelings of guilt, no matter how hard she had been trying to escape them for the past week.

XxXxX

Apparently she had a panic attack. She honestly didn't remember much of what happened except for the feeling of sheer, well, _panic_ and the need to sit down.

It was that incident that encouraged her dads to finally call up the social worker and schedule an appointment, putting Rachel in the position she was in now: on the couch. Literally. Well, it wasn't literally 'on the couch', she wasn't lying down and not looking at the social worker – she was sitting across from her ready to talk.

The woman was wearing a simple pencil skirt and a dark purple blouse. Her dark brown hair was neatly parted down the side and straight hair fell at a precise angle, presenting a bob that fit her face perfectly. Despite the business-causal attire and manicured hair, she was wearing a pair of high-top black Chuck Taylors, the tops of white socks peaking out from the top of the shoe. Rachel immediately took a liking to the woman.

"Hello, Rachel," she said and extended her hand in greeting. Rachel smiled brightly and returned the gesture. "My name is Andrea Simmel, but please call me Andrea; no need for formalities here." She paused for a moment while she reached towards a table and grabbed a clipboard with a pen attached.

"So how are you feeling today? I've read your file but, of course, the files don't help much with my job. Is there anything you wanted to talk about in particular today? We don't have to jump right into the main issue at hand, everything is up to you."

"I'm feeling… prepared. To talk, I mean. I just want to be able to get past all of this and move on with everything. One stalker cannot hinder a future Broadway star, can it? I doubt this will be the first." Rachel was actually quite excited about this tête-à-tête, since most of the time people complained about her excessive talking. Plus, it would be good to get everything spoken aloud so she could push it behind her.

"That is great to hear, Rachel. You want to be on Broadway?"

"Yes, ever since I could sing," Rachel beamed at the woman in front of her. "Would you like to hear?"

The social worker laughed. "No, but thank you. I think we have other matters to discuss, if you're open to that."

So they did. Rachel told her about what happened the day of the attack (or was it a kidnap? Rachel shared her uncertainty of what to call it). Mostly, the counselor just asked her how she felt at the time and what she felt now after having the opportunity to reflect on the incident. Rachel tried her best to be honest, but some of it was fuzzy and she often found that she was unable to articulate exactly _what_ she had been feeling.

It wasn't until about the third session that they began to discuss Aaron and pick apart what may have been happening inside _his _head rather than Rachel's. The social worker apparently knew a few minor details about him as a patient that she was allowed to share with Rachel. The bulk of it, however, was confidential between Aaron and his doctor.

"From what has been analyzed so far, Aaron may have been suffering from a disorder classified as Erotomania with signs of borderline personality disorder. Erotomania is a newly labeled disorder, however, so there is only a small amount of research on it."

"What is it?" Rachel asked curiously, having never heard of it.

"Aaron developed an attraction to you for reasons unknown-,"

"He said that he knew we were meant to be together when I helped him pick up his books in the hallway. I didn't even remember the incident, but apparently that's when it started…" Rachel interrupted and Andrea raised her eyebrows with interest and wrote something down.

"Well that act of kindness may have been a sign, to Aaron, that you had romantic feelings for him. People with the disorder are irrational and can convince themselves that any minor sign of interaction means much more than it actually does. Sometimes all it takes is a smile or shared glance in passing. You helped him pick up his books, he believed you loved him."

"But that doesn't make any sense," Rachel said, bewildered by the idea.

"It is an illogical logic constructed in Aaron's mind due to his disorder. Extreme types of disordered logic are often a key signifier of insanity." Rachel let the words sink in before responding.

"So… so he didn't think that what he was doing was wrong?" Rachel asked carefully.

"I'm not sure. He may have, in some part of his mind, realized that what he was feeling wasn't entirely rational since he was adamant about holding your hand, as you told me. He did, however, bring you into his home and introduce you to his mother, someone who could have separated the two of you."

"So why did he run away from the police after I left? Why did he hurt his mother?" Rachel inquired further, trying to understand.

"I don't know, Rachel, I'm sorry."

Rachel didn't like the answer, to say the least, but it was something. It explained plenty: he believed she loved him because something was wrong with his mind. He was seeing through… clouded glasses. But not everything was fitting together.

"At times, Aaron would act as if he loved me. He listened to me when I told him I wanted to meet his mother. He could have-have… raped me. I had no way out, and I know that he wanted to do it. But instead of hurting me he did what I asked and brought me to his house. Other times he wouldn't hesitate to hurt me. He grabbed me and, you know, he t-touched me when I begged him not to. Why would he only listen to me sometimes?"

"In cases of Erotomania the victim often picks what facts he or she wants to remember and chooses the weight of those facts. Depending on the context of your requests it most likely altered his response. At times he was upset, he would be overcome by his urge to be with you. When he wasn't upset, if you said something nice, for instance, he would do something for you. Ultimately, I would guess, the instinct to control the situation won out and Aaron attacked his mother at that point."

Rachel didn't say anything, again, and tried to sort through all of this new information.

"I don't want to mislead you, and keep in mind that everything I'm saying is theoretical (although possible). We cannot be sure because we are neither Aaron's doctor nor Aaron."

Rachel nodded and understood that everything being said could be false, but she couldn't help but feel reassured by the information. From what she gathered she was now more certain that she had made the right decision in not testifying against Aaron – he was a victim of his own mind. He couldn't even escape himself. At least she was able to get away.

"I feel bad for him," Rachel confessed. "I feel guilty for it. Not for him falling in… er, _love _with me, but for playing along with his delusion and making him believe that I felt the same."

The confession sparked the reoccurring conversation about Rachel's guilt and how she had to come to terms with the fact that nothing that transpired was her fault. It was obviously her biggest issue, and so far it had come up at every session with Andrea.

Even with all of the reassurance from her family, friends, and social worker, it wasn't much help. Because at the end of the day, when Rachel was laying in bed trying to fall asleep but thinking too much, her mind always wandered back to the moment where she got out of her car before calling the police to report an accident. She thought about how she hadn't pulled out her cell phone in Aaron's truck and tired to call anyone, when she could have but was too afraid. She thought about running away from Aaron's house, leaving his mother to fend for herself.

And no matter who told her otherwise, she knew the truth: things could have been prevented, and so much that did happen was her fault.

* * *

><p><strong>Again, <strong>I wanted to stress that I have no clue how legitimate legal proceedings actually work, so most of the things I wrote were from what I learned on television or quick search engine skimming. This is the same with Erotomania – it is actually a speculative disorder, but I think the concept is super interesting.

**As always, thank you so much for reading.**


	5. Epilogue

**Obsessed: Epilogue**

_Rachel,_

_ I can't expect your forgiveness, and I never will, because I will never be able to fully forgive myself. With that in mind, my goal in this letter is to _ask_ for your forgiveness regardless of my own desires and faults – even if I believe it will be futile to ask. I know now that this is about freeing you, not me, and by putting aside my selfish desires that I know are not reciprocated I can give you the chance to live your life and try to fit the fragments of mine back together._

_Living a lie, and allowing myself to do so, was my fist mistake. Loving you, or at least convincing myself that I did, was a defense mechanism for what drove me to the fringe of insanity in the first place: something you deserve an explanation to. Losing my father – him walking out on my mother and I – was what sent me over the edge; it was the incompetence that I began to feel when he abandoned us that drove me to create and believe in the lie that was my 'love' for you. Opening up my heart to you was the only way I could cope with the loss, with the emptiness and guilt that I felt every day and still feel for my dad walking out on me._

_ Vowing to stay away is the only piece of reassurance that I can give you at this point. Even if you, somehow, decide that you're no longer bothered by what I did and dispel the fear that I most likely instilled in you, I promise that I _will_ stay away._

_ Your future is your own to shape, and I am sorry if I was the reason for any setbacks or insecurities you may have faced along the way. One day I'll be able to stand on my own, with clear thoughts, and learn to live and accept life with the void of no longer having a father, rather than forcing myself to fill it with fallacies of love. Until that day, I can only hope that you can learn to be happy, and that I can continue to progress in moving on from this dark point in my life that I selfishly dragged you into you._

_Always,_

_Aaron_

Carl Warren looked upon his long-time patient with a sense of pride that someone in his position would undoubtedly be feeling when he could finally declare his patient fit for release. It had been a long year and a half, and it was with modern science, promises of continued outpatient therapy, and Carl's own dedication that made him believe that Aaron would be okay, and that he had a chance for a normal, stable life.

One of the final pieces of Aaron's therapy was to write a letter to the once object of his obsession (a girl named Rachel, in this case) and explain how he was feeling. They had been doing this periodically during his therapy, and it wasn't until now that Carl could finally believe that Aaron's mind was clear and that he was ready to face the world again.

"That was very telling, Aaron. I think that you've finally proven to me and to yourself that you can leave the hospital and reinsert yourself into society."

Aaron let out a sigh of relief and his shoulders visually relaxed as he slumped back into the chair.

"You're relieved? You didn't expect to hear that?"

"No-I-I just didn't want to get my hopes up, you know? I didn't want to get too excited to leave only to be told I can't. Again." Carl nodded in understanding but smiled nevertheless.

"Well this time you can rest assured that you'll soon be back to living a normal life. You can get your GED and finally go to college, as you've expressed interest in. I can start making some calls and have your release papers done within a day or two, how does that sound?"

"Great. Amazing," Aaron said, smiling for the first time in what felt like months.

"How about you go back to your room and say goodbye, pack up, let everyone know that you've been cleared for release? I'm sure your friends will be happy for you," Carl said with encouragement and Aaron didn't miss a beat. He was almost out of the door when he stopped and turned back to his doctor (and friend) with a hesitant look.

"Er-Carl? I was wondering if… well… do you think it would be possible for, er, _Rachel_ to read that letter?"

Carl looked down at the piece of paper before him, skimming the words with a thoughtful look.

"Maybe, but if I'm not mistaken there is a restraining order. We would need to get her permission to send you a letter. I can make some calls, if you're really sure you want her to see this."

"I'm positive," he said quickly, not needing to think twice about it. "I want her to be able to move on, too, just in case she hasn't… you know?" He added slowly, more calculated.

"Okay, I can try, but I can't promise anything."

"Great, thank you Carl. For everything." Carl smiled knowingly and Aaron walked away with a smile planted on his own face, but for very different reasons.

XxXxX

Rachel Berry looked down at the letter with mixed feelings. When Detective Carter contacted her just a few days prior and informed her of Aaron's request to send a letter she had been so very sure of herself – positive that this would be the final step towards closure. No more nightmares (which still sometimes happened once a month), no more looking over her shoulder, and no more paranoia. But now… something didn't feel right about it.

Her eyes scanned the letter again and an uneasy feeling crawled up her spine. She folded up the paper and tossed it into the trash bin next to her desk, not wanting to see it anymore.

She thought the whole Aaron debacle ended one year ago, after her last therapy session with Andrea. She had gotten over the guilt – she learned to accept the fact that Aaron was sick: there was nothing she could have done differently to prevent him from kidnapping her or hurting his mother. Even with the lack of guilt she was forced to come to the realization that what happened happened, and there was nothing she could do in the present to change the past. Now it was about moving forward, not looking back. And this letter… this was looking back.

If this was Aaron's way of finally moving on Rachel could safely say that it was not hers.

As she mused over the last year and a half she couldn't help but wonder if the whole process of time moving, things changing, and the world continuing to _go on_ had been her way of getting past it all. It wasn't as if she was ever really "stuck in the past," but there was also a constant reminder in the back of her mind that not everything in the world was perfect or nice, even if you were nice to _it_ – the whole experience was grounding, to say the least.

Despite the past, however, she knew that she had her entire future ahead of her – hell, she was _living_ her future right now: New York City, performing arts school, Finn and Kurt right beside her, and Broadway so very tangible. Yes, she was living the dream. _Her _dream.

So that was it. She was deciding then and there: the letter wasn't a tool to closure, but the object that she needed to encounter to realize that peace had already been made, and the time for dwelling was officially past.

She looked down at the letter in the trash bin and promised herself that she would never look back and see anything but a lesson learned.

_Fin_

* * *

><p><strong>AN:** I know it was short, but so necessary. I was pretty excited to post this, not gonna lie. Not sure how many of you are writers as well as readers, but there is nothing like the feeling of accomplishment when changing the status of a story from In Progress to Complete!

Any feedback would be lovely – favorite bits? Least favorite parts? Something bothering you? Is anything unclear? Were you expecting more from the epilogue? Any further questions?

Thank you so much to everyone who read and/or reviewed :).


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